


let the water lead us home

by slaapkat



Category: Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies With Benefits, M/M, Nightmares, who also kind of care about each other but won't admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 07:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20385760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaapkat/pseuds/slaapkat
Summary: It’s something of a small miracle to get Sinestro to stick around for any longer than he needs to be. Hal’s known that.





	let the water lead us home

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this is a wild fit all through the night because i didn't want to lose it and as I am posting this it is currently 4 in the morning so I apologize if you can tell. 
> 
> Hopefully it's still good!

It’s something of a small miracle to get Sinestro to stick around for any longer than he needs to be. Hal’s known that.

Over the years, through the handful of tentative truces and strenuous team-ups between them, the second that whatever universe-ending threat that forced them together is over with, Sinestro wastes no time in returning to his own territory and corps to pick back up with wherever he left off with his scheming. 

Even now, with-- with whatever it is they have going on between them, this _relationship _which neither of them can find a name for, Sinestro still only stays as long as strictly necessary. 

It’s a cycle. Between said universe-ending threats, the various corps still find any number of reasons to clash with one another, the Green Lanterns and the Sinestro Corps _more _than any of the others most times. Hal and Sinestro especially still find _plenty _of reasons to fight.

It’s after the fight that things tend to get a little murky. 

Sometimes, they part ways after reaching a stalemate that either side privately considers a _win_, going off to lick their wounds in peace until the next time.

Sometimes-- it’s a haze of heat and high emotions, warm mouths and soft touches, bruising kisses and panted praises, and the next thing Hal knows he’s waking up to an empty bed, nothing but his own memories and an odd sense of longing to keep him company.

Sinestro _never _sticks around, and he most certainly never _sleeps_. He prefers to let his power ring take the brunt of his exhaustion as well as the rest of his body’s needs, unable to afford a simple moment’s respite when the rest of his followers are just as scheming and treacherous as he is.

It, therefore, takes a _lot _of cajoling to convince Sinestro to _stay_, for once, honeyed words and sweet whispers, ever so carefully toeing the line between indulging and desperate, until he could finally be convinced that his Corps would survive without him for one more day, that whatever plans he had could be put on hold until morning. It’s reluctant and begrudging, but Sinestro _relents _all the same. He takes to bed beside Hal, and it’s-- almost nice.

They don’t embrace, or anything, and Hal’s _pretty _sure things might never actually come to that and _pretty _sure he’s fine with it. He was really only looking to have Sinestro just… there. _Close_. Just close enough to feel the heat of his presence, comforted by the simple thought of maybe _not _waking up alone for once. Relationships might never have been Hal’s forte, might not _ever _be, but he could at least pretend, for the time being, that he could almost want one. 

_Almost_. Hal was plenty smart enough to know he had commitment issues, knew that if he tried to make anything serious it was destined to fall apart soon after. Just as well, seeing as Sinestro had plenty of his own emotional baggage-- a dead wife whom he blamed himself for, and a dead friend whom he blamed _Hal _for --leaving him just as eager to keep his feelings at an arm’s length as Hal was. 

And yet, here they were. 

Sleeping together, and-- _sleeping _together. In the sense that they were in the same bed, at least. 

Close enough. 

Hal tries not to look at Sinestro sleeping too much, and at the beginning of the night, it’s not so hard; Sinestro deliberately lies facing away, back towards him, purposely distant. And it’s-- fine. Sinestro had only agreed to stay the night, after all. Hal had only _wanted _him to stay the night. Asking for anything more risked too much. Hal soon enough becomes content with the reminder Sinestro is even still there at all, and after a few stops and starts, soon enough falls asleep beside him as well. 

\---

It’s later in the night, Hal’s not quite sure when, when he suddenly becomes aware that he’s awake. Hours later, he’s sure, because it’s still dark out and-- well. Not _so _dark out.

Hal squints blearily against low, pulsing light in the corner of his eye, turning over until he could find its source: Sinestro’s ring. Sinestro, who was now lying on his side facing him, the dim glow of his power ring illuminating the space between them. Hal is ever so briefly afforded the luxury of seeing Sinestro _asleep_, his expression for once slack and relaxed, scowl absent, a few strands of jet-black hair falling over his forehead, before the odd pulsing of his ring pulls at Hal’s attention once more. 

His own ring rests behind him on his nightstand. A desire to sleep through the night uninterrupted by various Lantern nonsense as is was to have as few reminders of said Lanterns between them; evidently, Sinestro wasn’t quite so trusting just yet. 

The more the light pulsed, the stronger it grew, and the more Hal could recognize that Sinestro’s expression wasn’t so relaxed, after all. 

It’s pinched, brows drawing together ever so slightly, hair not so much falling over his forehead as plastered to it by _sweat_, beads of it gathering at his temples, his jaw locked tight, teeth grinding. 

The ring pulses again, in time with a sharply inhaled gasp and a very quiet, strangled noise in the back of Sinestro’s throat-- and it’s then Hal realizes he’s having a _nightmare_. 

It’s as fascinating as it is distantly horrifying. Sinestro’s ring was powered by _fear_, of course, and whether it was his own or anyone else’s hardly mattered. Fear was fear, and it would greedily feed on it all the same. Hal sits up slightly, and debates reaching for his own ring.

It felt _wrong _to just watch him suffer, yet waking him inevitably brought its own dangers.

Sinestro shudders, murmuring something indecipherable to Hal’s ears, fingers clutching at the sheets, his expression becoming more and more pained, all plainly illuminated by the ring’s sickly yellow glow. 

He _had _to do something--

“Sinestro,” Hal whispers, frowning, reaching out put a hand on his shoulder, nudging him slightly. “Hey. _Hey_. C’mon, it’s just a dream.”

It feels-- _weird_, to say the least, to attempt these words of comfort at a man who was the source of so much strife in his life, but Hal feels compelled to _try _anyways. All it succeeds in inspiring in Sinestro is a fresh wave of shuddering as another strangled noise escapes from in between tightly gritted teeth. Hal’s own jaw sets with resolve as he nudges at Sinestro again, intent of providing him with some relief from his nightmare. “_Sinestro--_”

Glowing golden eyes snap open in the same instant that Sinestro’s ring bursts with crackling yellow energy, light flooding the room for a split second. That’s all it takes for Hal to suddenly find himself on his back, still struggling to blink away the blinding light with Sinestro’s hand in a choking vice grip around his neck, ring hand reared back and glowing with blisteringly hot, deadly energy.

Sinestro snarls-- _something_, teeth bared and sharp, the words either too guttural and harsh for the ring’s translator to pick up or the effect of being unable to _breathe _already significantly hampering Hal’s ability to understand any of it regardless. He scrabbles at Sinestro’s hand around his neck and wheezes. Sinestro snarls again, wielding his ring in threat, and… _freezes_. 

His eyes dart around the darkened room, utterly silent save for his own panting and Hal’s struggling gasps. Finally, the settle on Hal. A beat. 

Hal sucks in a choked, desperate gulp of air when Sinestro recoils, relinquishing his grasp around his neck. He stands there, to the side of the bed, breathing labored, as Hal continues to cough and gasp and sputter in it, eyes wide and staring off into the middle distance.

“Maybe warn a guy next time,” Hal rasps, rubbing at his neck and attempting to sit up. “Not that I’m against a little playful choking every now and then, but--”

That, evidently, is enough to cause Sinestro to come back to himself. His expression shutters, schooling back down to that mask of cool indifference Hal can recognize even in the dark, as his fists clenched at his sides. Dread settles in the pit of Hal’s stomach, a feeling validated when the ring pulses again, and Sinestro’s Lantern uniform begins manifesting through the clothing he’d slept in. Hal manages a choked _wait _as he turns and walks out the door without another word.

He throws himself out of bed just in time to witness a streak of yellow light launching into the sky at breakneck speeds from his apartment balcony window.

\---

Hal doesn’t go after him.

He _would_, but--

The thing is, admitting some sort of _worry _about Sinestro (to Sinestro’s face, no less) was tantamount to admitting this relationship between them might be _real_. That, and honestly Hal was a _little _miffed at Sinestro just up and _running away_ like that, without even giving him a chance to assure him it was _fine_. 

The nightmare. Almost choking him. Whatever. It was all fine. 

So, Hal didn’t want to seem worried, and most of all didn’t want to seem _desperate_. He never really sought Sinestro out, as a rule. _Sinestro _was the one who usually showed up, appearing and leaving on his own terms like some kind of errant tomcat when the mood pleased him. 

Nonetheless, it still stings somewhat when the weeks pass and there’s no sign of him. 

It serves to leave Hal alone with his thoughts.

He’d caught Sinestro in an unexpected moment of weakness, which had evidently proved to be the breaking point.

It was impossible to tell just how much of a common occurrence these were for Sinestro (Lord knew how often Hal had them himself), but it certainly lent to all the more reason _why _he was often so intent on not sleeping at _all_. Nightmares proved the he-- _Sinestro_, the master of fear, the wielder of yellow light, the commander of _Parallax _\--wasn’t quite as infallible as he’d built himself up to be. He was mortal, and worst of all, he was _afraid_. 

Still. _Still_. Hal would have appreciated the chance to let Sinestro know it was _fine_. Really.

Radio silence maintains for another three weeks. 

\--

It’s late when Hal comes home to find his balcony more or less _occupied_. He snorts to himself, rubbing a hand down his face in minor exasperation, and walks over to slide the door open. 

It’s Sinestro, of course, standing tall and ramrod straight, arms crossed over his chest, expression stony. He doesn’t react to Hal’s presence, staring out over the cityscape of Coast City disdainfully.

Hal endures the silence with a dry amusement for a dragging few moments, leaning casually against the doorway, before he ultimately sighs and halfheartedly throws his hands in the air. 

“If this is about--” Hal gestures vaguely as he walks back inside. “I don’t know, last time, feel free to brood as long as you like. I won’t judge. Door’s unlocked whenever you wanna move the brooding indoors.”

Hal is in his bedroom when he hears the balcony door open and shut. When he hears nothing else, he sets about his usual routine of going to bed; he’s _tired _tonight, and would very much like to go to bed without all of Sinestro’s usual nonsense. 

When he looks up from taking off his shoes, Sinestro is _there_, arms still crossed, expression still stony, and Hal can’t help but sigh again. He sits at the edge of his bed, and crosses his arms to mirror Sinestro.

“Yeah?” Hal prompts, eyebrow raised expectantly. “So you decided to move your brooding inside after all?”

They stare at each other in steely silence, and _Sinestro _is actually the one who’s the first to look away. 

“You weren’t meant to see that,” is all Sinestro offers, his tone terse and clipped. ‘That’ meaning the nightmare, or so Hal assumes. He rolls his eyes, huffing.

“Look, it happens,” Hal shrugs, intent on returning to getting ready for bed. “We all have nightmares every now and then. My fault for waking you.”

“_I_ don’t,” Sinestro hisses, apparently as equally intent to save face. “I _instill _fear. I don’t _suffer _from it.”

“Whatever,” Hal says flippantly, which only serves to make Sinestro scowl. “If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. I hear that helps. Otherwise--”

“I’m not _afraid--_” Sinestro snaps. 

Hal stands, then, losing patience, and puts himself face to face with Sinestro, jabbing him in the chest with a pointed. “I never said you _were_. I said if you want to _talk_. You don’t think _I _have nightmares, too? You don’t think _I _wasn’t afraid I’d end up waking you up that night with _my _own embarrassing little bad dream? We’re _all _afraid of _something _whether we like it or not, so you can either _admit _it or _leave _because I’d like to _sleep_.”

Sinestro bristles for a second, chin lifted defiantly before finally relenting, sighing sharply through his nose and looking away. Hal takes it for the show of surrender that it is and returns to dressing for bed. He gets as far as taking off his shirt before he hears Sinestro speak up again.

“It was the destruction of Korugar.”

It’s quiet enough that Hal almost misses it. He turns towards Sinestro, who is staring down at his hands. “What?”

“It-- I was seeing it happen, over and over again,” Sinestro continues, his voice flat and forcibly held steady. “As though Volthoom was rewinding it over and _over _for his own sick amusement.” He looks up at Hal, then, expression carefully blank even though Hal knew how much it must have pained him to admit it. “Korugar, and-- _Arin_. He _had _her, somehow, and I--”

Hal puts his hand up to stop him. No need in Sinestro giving himself any more reason to hate him; it was weird enough they were willingly having this conversation to begin with. 

“If it helps any, I… still dream about the destruction of Coast City, a lot,” Hal says, sitting back on his bed. He looks expectantly at Sinestro, and after and moment he gingerly sits beside him. “The image of the smoking crater is burned into my brain, I’m sure. You don’t know how many times I’ve had to wake up and actually _check _it’s all still here, and that everything since then hasn’t been some weird Parallax-induced hallucination. Which is a _whole _different class of nightmares all on its own, to be honest.”

He hears Sinestro huff, still clearly thinking disparagingly of his supposed inability to control said monstrous fear entity, but it only serves to make Hal’s mouth twist in wry amusement. 

“Point being,” he continues. “Nightmares are dumb. I also can’t tell you _how _many times I’ve dreamed about stupid shit like forgetting my pants to work or not remembering the proper way to greet such-and-such alien species and getting put in stoackades and having rotten tomatoes thrown at my head because I accidentally insulted their most revered gods. Y’know, _typical _stuff.”

_That _earns him a noise from Sinestro that _might _almost be considered a laugh, as muffled and repressed as it was. Hal considers it a win regardless. 

He can’t believe he’s actually having a _nightmares are fine_ talk with Sinestro, but whatever. The man’s ego was deceptively fragile at times. 

“Does the offer still stand?” Sinestro asks suddenly, looking at him. Hal startles.

“Uh,” Hal drawls. “The… offer?”

“To stay the night.”

Hal blinks, unexpectedly caught off-guard. He feels weirdly warm inside, his face heating. “I mean. I guess, if you’d like. Yeah.”

Sinestro nods thoughtfully. His yellow uniform melts away, and when the last of it recedes, he slides the ring off his finger, and sets it aside on the nightstand. 

Hal watches it all dumbly, unsure what to say or make of it as Sinestro climbs into bed. Lacking much else to do, Hal follows suit.

They don’t embrace, still, and Hal’s still sure they might never quite make it that far, but if they lay closer together, close enough to _touch_, even, then he might be fine with that, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from "Home" by Mumford&Sons
> 
> I'm also @slaapkat on tumblr! please talk to me about halsin the tags are so lonely.


End file.
